Soul Men Review

Bernie Mac's final on screen credit fails to pay the comedian proper tribute.

In the span of two days I saw both of Bernie Mac's final performances, and having spoken to the late comedian on a number of occasions for at least one film which I felt was more deserving of praise than it received (Mr. 3000), it's disappointing to think that the last impression audiences have of him might be either Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa or Soul Men. Mind you, Mac doesn't necessarily deserve the lion's share (no pun intended) of the blame for either film's failure, but at least in the case of Soul Men, where he serves as one of the story's leads, he reminds audiences that he was an artist who was far better than the material he often took on... even if he always committed fully to making it as good as it could possibly be.

In the film Mac plays Floyd Henderson, a backup singer in a '60s R&B trio who enjoyed modest fame with his partner Louis Hinds (Samuel L. Jackson) and then faded into obscurity after frontman Marcus Hooks (John Legend) left both of them for a considerably more successful solo career. Reluctantly retired to a gated community where he spends his days twiddling his thumbs and diddling his neighbors, Floyd is presented with a unique comeback opportunity when Marcus dies and VH1 requests his and Louis' presence at a tribute show. Unfortunately, he and Louis had a falling out over a woman several decades back, and Floyd's former partner still holds a grudge -- even if he can barely hold down a job. Forging a tenuous agreement to split the profits for their appearance, Floyd and Louis depart on a road trip to New York to participate in the tribute show, in the process revisiting their checkered past even as they confront the possibility of a promising new future.

As a number of documentaries and fiction films have recently demonstrated -- including Standing in the Shadows of Motown and Only the Strong Survive, not to mention Dreamgirls -- there is an appetite, however significant, for stories about 1960s and '70s soul artists. Unfortunately for Soul Men, the material that is most relevant to that subject is pretty much encapsulated in the opening credits, which takes a Walk Hard-style stroll down R&B and soul's memory lane. This leaves the rest of the film to unwind languidly as a buddy comedy-road trip hybrid that feels composed of equal parts Midnight Run and The Blues Brothers, but without the former's indelible friction or the latter's straight-faced silliness.

I was warned before I saw the film that it was surprisingly filthy and I can confirm that the admonition was definitely warranted: Even given the participation of Mac and Jackson, neither of whom have ever heard a four-letter word they didn't like, there's a lot more profanity and bad behavior than one might expect given the subject matter. That said, none of it's offensive as much as it is just outrageous, and Mac in particular exudes so much charm and charisma that a lot of it registers as an afterthought. At the same time, the majority of these jokes distract from the fact that there's almost nothing of substance happening in the central story, and that the "conflicts" are episodic obstacles which are generally resolved during the same scene in which they arise.

Finally, there are the music sequences, which truly seem to exist in order to cover up the rest of the film's shortcomings (including -- but not limited to -- awful pacing, continuity problems, bad editing, and some of the worst green screen work in film history). Meanwhile, it's bad enough that director Malcolm D. Lee (Roll Bounce) cuts away from the stars as their characters dive into dance moves that would almost certainly break their aging bones, but he barely even bothers to suggest that either of the actors can sing -- which admittedly may be the point given their back-up status. But when you're making a music-based movie either let the actors sing or get them a suitable, pronounced voice for them to lip-sync to.

Of course, there's also the matter of Jackson, who seems to have given up on the idea of playing anyone other than himself, and who fails to bring anything unique or interesting to Louis' personality except possibly his ability to have sex with nubile blondes. But even prior to his untimely passing, Soul Men feels primarily like a vehicle for Mac and the "story" (and his eminently more appealing performance) stacks the deck in Floyd's favor to win the audience's sympathies. In any case, however, there simply isn't anything substantial at the heart of Soul Men to tie all of these disparate elements together; suffice it to say that in spite of its title, the film has precious little soul, but its real offense is being Mac's final on screen credit.